


Chicken Soup For The Sexually-Frustrated Soul

by MariaMediaOverThere



Category: Youtuber RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-10-13
Packaged: 2018-08-13 20:49:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7985704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MariaMediaOverThere/pseuds/MariaMediaOverThere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Requests invited.<br/>Polls open.</p><p>Readers get to choose what E-rated one shot I work on.</p><p>A gift for you guys making Sound-A-Like the septiplier fic with the most hits and kudos.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! Rank what you want me to make from most to least, and in a week, I'll come back and tally things up.
> 
> Side comments are welcome.

**Once More (This Time, With Feeling)**

Summary: Jack and Mark often meet up, have sex, then part ways. It was the routine. They were casual fuckbuddies and it was a neat little arrangement they had and cherished.  
This time, however, was different- it was the last time. Jack had to go away now. Suddenly, that made all the difference.

Feelings, previously unfound, start to blossom.

[feelings, angst, confessions]

 

**Star of the Show**

Summary: Jack with his shapely pale legs, bright aura, and slim hips is one of the male backup dancers in a famous burlesque club. He looks to the main talent like his idol- trying to get noticed and possibly even adapt some of her graceful moves.

Nonetheless, he feels like a failure, never being given a chance to be the main event. He sits his ass down in the corner of the club to drink his frustrations away, where he meets the warm-eyed bartender who assures Jack he's better than he believes himself to be.

[body worship, feelings, multiple orgasms]

 

**A Muzzle For My Lover**

Summary: Jack talks too much- such that he almost outs their secret relationship.  
Miffed, Mark decides that a little positive enforcement and correction is in order.

[gagging, typing up, orgasm delay, begging, BDSM]

 

**Let's Do The Twist (Come On, Baby)**

Summary: Mark argued that playing button-mashing games was his and Wade's deal- so they opted to find another type of game to play together.  
They happily settle on Twister.

Ironically enough, the constant rubbing-against and position-switching causes some distress for them both.

[friends to lovers, first time, grinding, humor, awkward boners]

 

**Check The D (Blessed, Indeed)**

Summary: inspired by "Down In The DM (Remix)" by Yo Gotti feat. Nicki Minaj.

Mark's not unfamiliar with strangers sending him nudes on Instagram. It's to be expected of a male Insta-model. It's just that he never thought he would be on the giving end of that line.

Jack's a video game tester that posts screenshots and character sheets of any project that he works on. Sometimes, he posts pictures of his face- but he never thought anyone would really be into that.  
He realizes his mistake when Instafamous model Mark Fischbach sends him a dickpic.

[confessions, humor, masturbation, voice kink, awkwardness]

 

**If You're Horny (Let's Do It)**

Summary: Jack won't leave Mark be.  
He keeps sending heated glances and bedroom eyes his way. He licks and tugs at those lips and makes certain that his point is clear: there's desire thick in his veins.

It's just that Mark is a very important businessman and Jack is an intern distracting him during a meeting with the CEO.

Well, if Jack wants sex so bad- let him have it.

 

[multiple orgasms, over-stimulation, BDSM, spanking, pet names, semi public sex]


	2. Let's Do The Twist (pt. 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Mark play some board games that aren't really board games, but there's a board and it's a game, so...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the overwhelming response!

"Hello everybody, my name is Markiplier! And this is--"

Jack sprinted towards Mark, using his body weight to push him out of the frame. "Jackaboy!"

 

With a playful shove, Mark continued, "And welcome to TWISTER!" He said with a flourish. The Asian stepped back so that the set-up behind them could be in full view.

"We got a camera here," he pointed towards the camera in front of himself and Jack, "and here." He pointed to another camera to his left, stand precariously placed on top of the sofa and a few stacked books in order to achieve an almost top-down perspective.

"Now I know what you're thinking-"

"Mark is gonna lose! And it's true."

"Jack, shut the fuck up. I'm gonna edit you out." 

 

The Irishman only went center-frame behind Mark and did his best imitation of one of those air-blowy-men in front of car shops.  
"Anyways," Mark said pointedly, "I- Jack, can you not?"

Despite his otherwise harsh scolds, the other Youtuber was obviously trying to stifle a laughter at his friend's antics. "We haven't even started!"

 

"I can't help it! I'm so excited! I'm with you- LIVE!" Jack jumped a few times and shook his hands to get the giddiness out of his system. "I'm anxious as all hell."

"You weren't like this with the face swap." Mark ran his hands through his hair tiredly, knowing he couldn't complete a straight intro with Jack constantly running around at he back.

"It's different this time. That was just Mark and Sean- two bros hanging out. Now we're Jacksepticeye and Markiplier!" He paused.  
Jack mulled over the next choice of words. "I never thought I'd get to where I am right now. With you."

 

"That's pretty gay." Mark placed a hand on his hip.

"We're playing twister!" Jack spat back. "If I didn't know any better, I'd assume ye're tryna cop a feel of this Irish thunder."  
The Irishman turned and popped his booty back.

 

"Please don't." Mark said exasperated, yet with a smile playing on his lips. "I just want something special that I didn't already do. I do button-mashers with Wade, and I don't know... Board games, I never did before. Except maybe in PAX... But that's different."

 

"Is Twister a board game?"

"There's a board- the one with the arrow wheel- and it's a game. Board. Game. Board game."

 

"Genius."

"I know." Mark said dryly. "Will you let me actually start this video or are you going to continue to seduce the audience at home?"

Jack thought for a bit, thumb under his chin and finger over his lip. He did this while he unrelenting kept gyrating randomly. "Give me a moment t'think." 

Mark suppressed the heat blooming in his chest, and re-did his intro.

 

 

"Left leg, blue!"

"Shit." Mark bit his tongue as he went into a full lunge. "I should have worn more flexible pants."

"You shouldn't be wearing pants at all." Jack wriggled his eyebrows, which vaguely represented two caterpillars fighting above his eyes.

"But then I'd automatically win just because you'd be too distracted by this big ol' booty!" The Youtuber removed his hand from a green circle in order to smack his butt to the other camera.

 

Suddenly, a leg came through between his own- effectively pressing against his crotch. With a yelp, Mark turned the other way to see Jack with a shit-eating grin on his visage. "Right leg, yellow."

 

Mark harrumphed. Unwilling to let Jack soak up all the screen time, he bent over farther to spin the board- doing his best to push Jack off balance using his rear.

"Woah there!" Jack grabbed onto Mark's hips. "Stop that! That's cheating!"

"I'd never! How about you? You're not supposed touch things to keep balance!" Mark thrusted back to shake Jack's hands off to no avail- he only griped harder.  
"Hey, keep your hands on the colors!"

 

"Mark! Shit!" Jack had tried to place his hands back to their coordinates, only to fall backwards, pulling Mark down with him.

 

A couple of expletives and cursing later, Mark had managed to wriggle his folded leg from underneath Jack.  
"You're a fucking cheater!" The Asian hissed playfully, glaring backwards, above his shoulder, at the man pinned beneath his weight.

"I'M the cheater?!" Jack gasped incredulously. "You fucking- PFFFT. Get the fuck off of me!" The Irishman thrashed wildly, hellbent on getting the 200-ish pounds of beefcake off his person.

 

"No!" Mark laughed, leaning further back on Jack's tummy. "This is what you get for being a cheater! You cheater! Twister cheater!" He continued to sing like a child, bouncing his booty butt on Jack with vigor.

"What the FUCK!?!" Jack tried to claw at his back- anything to push him off. Mark refused to relent.

 

The scene itself reminded them both of their childhoods; wrestling with their brothers, Tom, and Seamus and Malcolm respectively.

Except not.

Because they weren't brothers.  
They were two grown men with no common blood.  
Which was good in Mark's perspective because Jack's sparkling blue eyes, that glistened when he was excited, and turned stormy when he was upset, only lended in making the man more beau-

 

"Jack, stop!!" Mark screeched, trying his best to keep his laughter suppressed with fingers running up and down his sides.

"Get of'a me first!"

Mark fought back, trying to grab Sean by the wrists. "Neh-N-No! Quit it!"

 

Despite Jack's best efforts, he could not loosen the grip that Mark had around his wrists. Those hands after all were obviously well-worn; strong and dexterous, with veins running up to his arms.  
Jack often imaged what kind of tension was on them whenever Mark would-

 

"Ouch! Fucking-- take your phone out of your pocket! Why do you still have it with you? I could've easily accidentally crush it!" Mark squirmed forward, still trying to keep Jack from ticking him. "It's poking me!"

 

Jack blinked.

 

He looked towards the coffee table, off-camera, where his phone was left on silent, with big panicked eyes.

 

 

Jack flushed a hard red at that moment.

"Enough." He squeaked, shoving Mark off of him with newfound muscle power.  
The Irishman crawled over on his fours to the main camera to shut it off.

"Jack?"

 _Great, now I seem like a jackass._ The Irishman forlornly sighed as he fumbled with the grooves of of the device before him.  
He was just about to get up to turn the other one off as well, when the unwanted presence between his legs halted him from making any sudden movements.

 

Grumbling and unwilling to let his face be seen, less Mark catch the red in his cheeks- Jack gestured for Mark, who ignored it with a stubborn face.

"Mark," Jack whined- but he didn't have an add-on to that. His lips went into a straight line. He sat down, legs bent around him, facing away from his redhead friend.

 

"Jack, did I- did I cross any boundaries or something? You should've told m-- You know what, it's not your fault. I should've asked if it was alright... But you know, you should've said you didn't want to play Twister if-"

"Mark, oh my god, shut up!"

Mark did.

 

Jack scrubbed his face. "Not like that- I mean, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell. It's not about... that." The Irishman prayed his face didn't show anything amiss when he looked towards Mark, "You're very sweet. Thank you. I'm fine."

 

Tight lips. Several creases on his forehead. Squint in his eyes. Mark had not bought it.

 

Jack groaned, looking away and to the floor, "Just forget about it... And shut off that camera!"

 

"Not until you tell me what I did wrong!" Mark pursued Jack, crawling across the Twister map towards the unknowingly horny Horny Toad-color-haired man.

Unaware of Mark's advancements, Jack relaxed his otherwise rigid posture. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"Bullshit!" Mark huffed.

 

Ticked, the Irishman turned another time to berate his friend on how headstrong he was. To his surprise, Mark had almost entirely made his way across the mat without his suspicion.

 

Almost.

 

Realizing he might hit Jack, Mark hesitated to crawl forward- his clothed knee slipped against the smooth Twister map and threw himself face-first onto the floor.

 

Except the floor wasn't the hardwood he was expecting... It was a different kind of such.

Instead of wood grain, his cheek scuffed across a cotton-denim mix, which harshly rubbed at the junction of his right cheek and nose.

 

Mark looked up.  
Jack also looked up- apparently asking God what he could have possibly done for this to befall him.

 

The redhead then looked forward, at the denim-constricted erection that could no longer be hidden no matter how much Jack would have killed a man to.  
Front and center.


	3. Check The D (Blessed, Indeed)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack received a dick pic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOAH. ITS BEEN A WHILE.
> 
> I've been hard at work at my ORIGINAL horror/comedy comic BRIMSTONE&WISHBONE up on my deviantart and Instagram (both MariaMediaHere)
> 
> LINK: [just remove the parentheses] http://mariamediahere(.)deviantart(.)com/art/Brimstone-and-Wishbone-BABY-BLUES-1-3-639085085
> 
> I know it won't be as well-received as all my Septiplier trash, but I'd like to at least try to achieve an identity outside of fandoms.
> 
> It'd really mean a lot if you could check them out and send some feedback either here, on DA, IG or my Twitter (@MariaMediarito).
> 
> Are you sick of my shameless advertising yet? Here's the fic:

When Jack McLoughlin, video game tester extraordinaire (or more of typical-aire. There's honestly nothing exemplary about nit-picking videogames and pointing out bugs in the system), receives an Instagram DM, he thinks nothing of it.

People would usually send him funny screenshots of glitches in early release games so that he could relay them to the creators. Sometimes it's meant in jest, but others, they're vicious with how Jack could overlook [insert bug here].

I mean, if it was half the map disappearing on an integral part of the narrative, then they've a right to be miffed; but if it's the character's walk cycle jumping while running against a wall, then fuck right off with that noise.

 

But then Jack had actually read the username attached to the "picture sent" notification.  
He felt his blood coagulate in his veins.

 

Markiplier, or more known as Mark Fischbach, the American model/cosplayer had just messaged him.

 

He remembers the first time he saw him- on covers of pop culture and gamer magazines in bookstores a few years back.  
Jack had flipped through aimlessly across those glossy-covered papers to, more often than not, find out what was the latest deal on FNAF.

It was only during the Halloween edition, in an ad for FNAF 2, when he saw the previously black-haired man, clad in a tight-fitting night guard costume, flashlight in hand, did he realize that **_damn, son_**.

The buttons on his navy uniform looked as if they were only being held together by the grace of God.

Bulging muscles, a strong jawline, and a fit torso... It has to be photoshopped.  
Jack believed as much, buying the copy for "research purposes" that left him spent that night in his bed with sticky sheets.

And morning.

And afternoon.

 

And sometimes, in the shower, as he had already committed the image to memory.

 

Eventually, the magazine collected dust (as well as particular bodily fluids), and Jack had eventually moved on to more urgent things once he got commissioned as a tester for a handful of companies.

 

Then his buddy Felix, one of the concept artists for OuterMinds, had invited him to PAX to partake in the demo for their next release Tuber Simulator.

 

It was a dream come true to be in the same room as some of the greatest mind in the gaming industry.  
He remembers seeing Muyskerm and LordMinion777 (which wasn't difficult as they were a good foot and a half taller than the general audience) and subsequently almost pissing himself in awe.

Jack doesn't even remember approaching them, but when he suddenly came to, he realized he was sharing idle conversation with them and their attractive friend.

 

The friend of which, after unabashedly checking him out, did Jack realize those beefy arms belonged to his wet dream from months prior. Now, with a feisty mop of pink hair that complimented the pink in the highs of Jack's cheeks.

 

Eventually, the pair of 6-foot let's-players had to attend their own show, leaving the tester with model Mark Fischbach to talk.

 

Well, Mark talked. Jack stuttered, bit his tongue, laughed awkwardly, and generally failed to be a functioning human being.

 

 

So here we are, in the present, 12 days after PAX, and Jack was staring at Mark Fischbach's dick pic.  
He blinked.  
Then blinked again.  
Then he fervently checked his pulse.

 

It must be some mistake, right?

Maybe it was a joke. A shock image of sorts. Something found off of the first page of Google Images.  
Something to break the ice between a pair of acquaintances?

But no, why would a guy like Mark Fischbach want to get to know a guy like Jack? Unheard of.

How did Mark even find Jack's Instagram in the first place?

He checked if-yes, it really is Mark Fischbach's Instagram page. The little overrated verified symbol confirmed as much.

But it must be some rando's penis, right? Not Mark Fischbach's penis. Or else...

 

...Jack would have a pic of Mark Fischbach's penis.

 

...what now?

 

 

 

It wasn't like it was a bad dick pic, either.  
The phallus in question was 3/4 erect, red at the tip, with veins visible under the thin skin. Whoever owned it, Mark Fischbach or not, was well groomed. Jack took 2 seconds to imagine what it'd be like to suckle the head.

Briefly, he imagined giving Mark head.  
Then he imagined Mark blowing him.  
Then he imaged Mark giving it to him good, a thought he had not only ever thought of at this moment, but a variable X amount of times prior.o

 

The Irishman set his phone down before taking a step outside to breathe some of the fresh air.

 

 

And if he started screaming, then that was only between him and his alarmed neighbors.

 

 

 

It had been approximately 5 hours since he saw a pic of possibly-Mark Fischbach's penis.  
He realized it must be such a mouthful to continually refer to it as "Mark Fischbach's penis", but they weren't close enough for him to just call him Mark- or Merk, as the model/cosplayer had pointed out he said in between a fit of giggles when they met in person 2 weeks ago.

 

2 weeks ago.  
Jack racks his brain for what had happened that day.

 

He remembers being enthralled by the perfect human specimen. He had given the humble Irishman his undivided attention- laughing when it was appropriate and nodding whenever Jack paused in his spiels.

What a piece of shit.

It broke his heart to have to leave the convention. Especially after he was embraced by a pair of tan arms, with veins running along them, as they bade goodbye.

 

And no, it's not creepy that Jack tried to smell him.

 

 

Jack pauses in his reflection when his phone jerks about restlessly.  
Several pings emit from the device in quick succession, and the Irishman feels as if he already knows why.

 

"OH MH GOD"  
"IM SO SORRY- I DIDN'T MEAN TO SEND YOU MY DIKC"  
"*dick"  
"I mean, I sorta did, but I was drunk, so it didn't count"  
"Oh my god I'm like the worst person ever, are t I?"  
"*ARENT. Ducking iPhone."

 

It was as if time was in slow motion but Jack's fingers had suddenly been possessed by sonic the hedgehog. Without him noticing, he had sent a reply.

 

"*fucking"

"Wow. Thanks. Glad that was what you noticed first."

"I think grammar is very important."

"How could you think about grammar at a time like this?? I'm freaking out!!!!1"

"I'm not gonna publicly reveal your penis. I'm not that kind of guy."

"That's not what I was worried about, but thanks for that anyways."

Jack paused. He read the previous texts.

"What do you mean that you sorta meant to send me the pic?"

It took forever and a half before he got a reply. But Jack didn't mind. He was curled up in a corner of his room, anxiously biting his lip.

"so I kinda asked around for you, and then I wanted to follow u, but then I thought it'd be weird, so I kinda stalked your photos, and I already knew you were really cute but then now I know you're totally cute like personality-wise, and you work really hard and I like the glitches screenshots you upload and I think you're funny so maybe I sorta got a crush on you and then I didn't know what to do about it so I went out and maybe I wasn't sober so here's my dick"

 

"I can't believe that was only one sentence"

"Fuck u"

Mark must have felt awkward now, since Jack said nothing more. The redhead followed up with an "I'm sorry." and a "Are you okay with all of this? I understand in you're not"

 

Jack had taken time to pause- actually pause and not just cease coherent thought. He reflected the pros and cons of the situation. The possible responses and their respective consequences flit through his mind.  
The Irishman confiscated at least 20 pretend conversations in his head before he had finally decided on his next maneuver.

 

Jack sent a dick pic back.


End file.
